


The Boy Who Waited

by Slumber



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Hogwarts Fifth Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-18
Updated: 2011-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:55:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slumber/pseuds/Slumber
Summary: Terry thought he might be chosen prefect. Unfortunately, he was wrong. :(
Kudos: 1
Collections: 30-minute Writer's Block Challenge





	The Boy Who Waited

**June**

"Bye!" Terry Boot said, hugging Lisa Turpin hard before they parted ways at Platform 9 and 3/4.

"Make sure you write!" Lisa yelled after him.

"Will."

"And tell me when you get your badge!" she added.

Terry grinned. "I will." He'd had a good year, more or less, and he thought Professor Flitwick had seemed rather impressed by his Charms work, and even the way he helped the students in Ravenclaw set up a tribute for Cedric. Michael Corner floated around too much, Kevin Entwhistle was more interested in experimenting on the girls' stairs, and Anthony Goldstein was too studious to do any sort of Prefecting. He felt confident he would be chosen over the summer.

"Had a good year, dear?" his parents greeted him as he emerged onto the Muggle side of the platform. His father was still sporting his doctors' coat, and his mother was prim in her pencil skirt and delicately floraled blouse. 

They'd had foreign exchange students visit for most of the term, their school was crowned champion of a centuries-old tournament, and a student had died because according to the savior of the wizarding world, a dark and evil wizard had come back from the dead. Terry looked at the expectant smiles of his parents and wondered where to even begin.

"It was okay," he said.

* * *

**July**

"Did they tell you when to expect the package, Terry?" his mother asked, not for the first time that summer.

"They don't tell us-- I mean, I don't actually know if I have it," Terry said. 

"You're not going to be a prefect?"

"No, mum, I mean it's--"

"But why not? You said you were doing really well in school this year."

Terry licked his lips. "I was," he said. "I did."

"Darling, you know that would look really good on your CV if you start applying to.. is it Healing school that they have there, after Hogwarts?" his mother asked. "You need to set yourself apart from the rest of your peers. I've been talking with some of the magical parents. They say the Institute for Healing is _really_ competitive."

Terry winced. "I know, mum, it's just that we don't know for sure who's been selected, and anyway, it's early in the holidays, isn't it?"

"But you're sure there's no one else?" his father asked, putting down the paper he was reading.

"Well, I mean, there could be others--" he started to say, but quickly changed tactics at the look his parents shared with each other. "But I mean. I have a really good chance of getting it, I'm sure!"

"Well, Terry," his mother said, smiling stiffly. "I'm sure that they think the same thing."

"Yeah," he said, feeling slightly deflated.

* * *

**August**

"How are you supposed to know again?" his father asked, peering up at the skies. Every time the Boots received an Owl it seemed his parents expected the badge to show up with it, which only made Lisa's letters all the more unwelcome in the Boot household. She and Michael had promised to write, but lately it seemed more as though only Lisa was writing (which was fine, because Michael was a little bit of a flake like that, but _still_. He could at least let him know he was still alive, you know?) and it wouldn't have bothered anybody if Terry knew for sure one way or another who'd been made Prefect.

"Owls, Dad," Terry said for the fiftieth time. "They're supposed to send you an Owl."

His father frowned. "Are we sure these owls are reliable?" he asked. "I mean. They're _owls_."

"Yes, Dad," Terry said, looking out at the sky. It was bright and sunny outside, and he'd meant to spend his summer holidays relaxing for once, but this whole prefect business had been everything his parents seemed interested in talking about. "Maybe they're just late."

"It's already the middle of August," his mother pointed out, coming out with a tray of tea. "Come sit here, love."

"Yeah," Terry said, crossing his fingers and wishing extra hard that the owl come by soon. Like, in the next second, please and thank you. More and more he was beginning to realize that he'd not really banked on _not_ being made prefect. He'd assumed it was his, and now--

Now he wasn't so sure.

Lisa was helpful and supportive, of course. She'd written multiples times to assure him that it was coming, and then, when it seemed it wouldn't, to let him know that it wasn't the end of the world at all, oh no, of course not.

 _Plenty of famous wizards weren't prefects, you know_ , she'd pointed out in one of her letters. _And definitely not all Healers were prefects. Plus, not all prefects would be applying for the Institute of Magic, so it isn't like you haven't got a chance anymore. There are still the OWLs and the NEWTs, and those are much bigger considerations. At least, that's what my mum says._

Terry appreciated the sentiment, he really did, but it was hard to explain to Lisa that it wasn't really about the Institute of Healing. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure that's where he wanted to go, or that Healing was what he wanted to do. But it was important to his parents, and they'd been so pleased when they found out he was doing well in his classes, even the practical courses that he'd worried would get the better of him, that it was just _difficult_ to sit around day after day and continue to disappoint them because some stupid package failed to show up.

He really hoped it had just been a mistake, and he'd be proven wrong when he woke up the next day and found his badge delivered to him overnight.

He fell asleep with his fingers and toes crossed.

* * *

**September**

"Remember, don't be afraid to ask your professor at all what happened with the badge, alright?" his mother reminded him, kissing the top of his head before she hugged him one last time.

"And write us as soon as you find out what happened," his father added. 

"Yes, Mum. I will, Dad." Terry sighed, smiling weakly at his parents before he gathered his remaining items and pushed the cart through the platform entrance. His parents had dropped him off at the actual platform his first year, but his mother had been extremely unnerved by the process and had preferred to stay on the Muggle side ever since. Terry didn't mind, because it usually meant he didn't have to hang around with his parents on the train platform while his classmates saw every embarrassing thing they did to him.

"Terry!" 

He turned to look, and Lisa waved back at him. She was standing by her mother, a short witch with long dark hair and a carefree smile.

"Hey Lisa," he said, walking over. "Hi, Mrs. Turpin."

"Had a good summer, Terry?" 

"Yeah, it was pretty good," he said. "How was yours?" he asked Lisa.

"Okay," she said, glancing at her mother. "Mum, can we get on the train now?"

"Of course, dear."

Lisa took Terry's hand and led them inside after she kissed her mother one more time and hugged her, promising to write. They found an empty compartment and set their things inside, making room for Michael, who was sure to be running late and barely make the train again. 

"Don't get mad," Lisa said as soon as they sat down.

"Huh? What?" Terry asked, but a look at Lisa's expression and he bit his lip. "Oh no. You know who got the badge, didn't you?"

Lisa pursed her lips. "Mandy told me," she admitted.

"It isn't Michael, is it?" Terry asked. The boy hadn't written back at all, but it was _Michael_. Terry hadn't even thought-- maybe that was why. Maybe Michael had kept it from him. That would have been _silly_ ; Michael's his best friend, and yes, he wanted to be a prefect but even that wouldn't have come between their friendship. Would it? No, of course not, he'd be _supportive_ and _happy_ and oh no, what would his parents say?

He'd lie to them, he decided. Tell them it was somebody else. They liked Michael well enough, but to be honest, Terry felt that was because they usually liked people who didn't threaten their own son's academic standing. 

"No, it isn't Michael," Lisa said. "It's Anthony."

"What?"

Anthony Goldstein was a mousy, quiet boy who'd barely said two words all year and was really, really smart, but wasn't exactly what Terry would have considered prefect material.

"Mandy's been owling with Padma, and she told her. Padma's the other prefect."

Terry nodded, dazed. Padma made sense, but Anthony--

"Terry."

"Hm?"

Lisa squeezed his hand. "You'll live," she said.

Terry wrinkled his nose. "I guess," he sighed, glum.

 _Dear mum and dad_ , he wrote later that night. _I'd spoken with Professor Flitwick, and unfortunately, the badges weren't late, as we feared. He sent them out on time, but I wasn't selected. Nevertheless, I assure you I'll do my best this year..._

There were still the OWLs and the NEWTs, he thought. He'd top _those_ for sure. He had to.

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider donating to local organizations who support trans individuals in your area.


End file.
